Tell the Angels It'll Be Alright
by Catalina
Summary: A drama told through the perspectives of Leon and Claire as they both fight to deal with the memories of the loves they have lost.
1. Default Chapter Title

Tell the Angels It'll Be Alright

A Resident Evil Fic

**Part One**

Run and tell all of the angels

_This could take all night…_

_ _

_Pizza._

_ _

_Cheese._

_ _

_Pepperoni._

_ _

_Sauce._

_ _

_Red sauce._

_ _

_Red._

_ _

_Red hair._

_ _

_Red blood._

_ _

_Steve…_

_ _

_No!_

Claire Redfield angrily shook her head, her brown ponytail whipping behind her head as violent as the lash of a slave driver's whip.It struck the sides of her face, creating small bursts of almost-pain that fought vainly to bring her back to reality.For a moment, she shut her blue eyes tightly, stubbornly putting a damper on the flood of tears that threatened to inundate her vision.

_ _

_Just try again,_ she told herself._Start again.All roads can't lead to…him._

She took a breath, and tried again.

_ _

_Motorcyles._

_ _

_Wind in her hair._

_ _

_Hair._

_ _

_Red hair, so soft._

_ _

_Even in death._

_ _

_Steve…_

_ _

_Ah!No!_

An almost bestial snarl of frustration emerged from her throat as her eyes flew open, revealing blue depths wet with tears of memory.Her lower lip quivered violently, and Claire quickly caught it with her teeth before it could trigger the horrible train of sobs and tears that were begging to be released.She gave a shuddering sigh and pulled her knees up against her chest so she could bury her face in them.

It had been weeks since her and Chris' escape from the Antarctic Base, weeks since she had left that realm of nightmares behind her in exchange for a one-way trip on the train of vengeance, at her brother's side.Now she and Chris were back in Paris, the place where Claire had been captured and taken to Rockfort Island.Umbrella had long since abandoned the facility that had been Claire's undoing, but Chris was certain that Umbrella had left some trail that could be followed.Claire, of course, had agreed to come with him, refusing to be separated from her brother now or ever again.The seeds of a plan were being sowed, Leon was coming up to meet them, they were hot on the trail of Umbrella, the two siblings having conquered adversity over and over again…

But Claire couldn't forget Steve.

Every waking moment was haunted with the sweet shadow of his brutal, valiant death.The savage nature of the beast he had become in his final moments hadn't been enough to vanquish the humanity that was so strong within him.Steve had been born a human, and he died as a human, unlike so many other victims of Umbrella's horrible experimentations.Even now, weeks after his death, Claire could still see they way his orange-red hair blazed blood red against the deathly pale pallor of his smooth skin as he lay dying against the wall that served as his only grave marker, splattered with his courageous blood.His pale green eyes and coral colored lips were painted on her heart and etched into the backs of her eyelids.His words haunted her dreams; she couldn't escape the memories of him.Every path she took, every thought she started with, always led back to one Steve Burnside, prisoner of Rockfort Island, a boy lost in a savage garden of zombies and blood, lost until he had found her…and she had found him.

Claire couldn't sleep – the hauntingly sweet memories of him came so strong and violent.The realm of blackness behind her eyelids bore his face with its jovial green eyes and full mouth that could yield the most beautiful smiles when he was in his good moods.The fiery color of his hair blazed so brightly against the blackness that soon his own figure burned and contorted as she watched with a broken heart.Her emotions and sanity twisted and turned in this place behind her eyelids where angels burned.

Her dreams were filled to the brim with cherished memories of him, so casual at the time, but now they were among her fondest recollections in her entire life.She didn't remember the horrendously twisted laugh of Alexia Ashford or the androgynous cackle of Alfred Ashford; instead, she recalled Steve's light-hearted chuckles as they joked about flying to Hawaii or when he had insisted on telling her every cheesy joke he had ever heard in his lifetime.That time in the snowmobile in the Antarctic now seemed so far in the past, with her driving and exchanging happy banter with Steve, telling him in a more serious tone about Raccoon City and the events that went down there.She had tried not elate at how envious and protective Steve had gotten when she had mentioned Leon's name…

_ _

_"Who is this Leon guy?" Steve asked in what was supposed to be a light tone, but came out more as a jealous growl."I remember you saying something about sending him an e-mail.Is he your boyfriend or what?"_

_ _

_Claire suppressed the urge to grin as Steve tried to appear unconcerned with her answer.She failed, and a smile spread across her face as she averted her gaze from the snowy landscape outside to Steve's figure slouched in the seat next to her."Leon's not my boyfriend," she said simply._

_ _

_Steve immediately perked up, his graceful eyebrows coming up out of the scowl they had settled into."That's cool," he said, voice light with barely contained happiness."That's really, really cool."_

_ _

_Claire looked at him oddly, her quirked eyebrows contrasting with the grin that was lighting up her face._

_ _

_Steve turned as red as his hair and looked away, fidgeting in embarrassment."Well, um, yeah.Hey, have you ever heard the one about…?"_

Now there would be no more jokes, no more laughter.Steve had taken them both down with him into his grave.Claire had never known how terrible it was to realize that her entire world sat on someone's shoulders, then to have that person brutally torn from them by Fate, taking almost everything that she had ever lived for with him.She saw it all the time in the movies, those sappy romances with wimpy, underweight women that she had always hated._I'll never be one of those pansies,_ she had vowed._They don't know how to deal with life and all its harsh realities.Just deal with it and move on.No need to cry about every little thing._

Yet, now here she was, Claire Redfield the tough little tomboy always looking up to her older brother and his rebellious nature, never giving into tears, never giving into hardship.Here she was, a full grown woman sitting curled up in a chair next to a frost-covered window in a Paris hotel, looking out at the cold night and the cruel heavens with watery eyes and a broken heart.

It was these watery eyes that she now lifted entirely to the winter sky, looking at the deep blue of the fabric of space, pierced all over with holes of starlight.Her blue eyes searched that cold, dark night sky for a sign of life, for some sort of indication that there was a place up there where angels danced in the light of love, free of all earthly entanglements and living forever eternal in a realm of unchecked happiness.

_ _

_Is Steve up there?_ Claire wondered._Up there with a God and with angels that I don't believe in?_

Yet, despite her lack of religious faith, she desperately wanted to believe that there was some heavily Garden up there where angels sang songs of praise to those who had died valiantly, a place where there was no mourning, no suffering, where Steve was happy and carefree, where he could finally be with his parents again.He had loved them so much…

Yes, Steve had loved his parents with all his heart.But he had also loved Claire, too.He had loved her enough to kill the horrible creature that once borne his father's face.He had killed his father not when his _own_ life was threatened, but when Claire had been in danger of dying.He had saved her life then, had saved it a dozen times over, and he had died saving it one last time.

And now he was gone, and she was alone.

Sure, Chris was in the room next to her, making plans about the siege on the Umbrella headquarters and worrying about his sister, concerned with the fact that it had been weeks since he had seen her smile last.He was probably wondering why she insisted on holing herself up in her room and only emerging when it was absolutely necessary.He was probably wondering what the hell was wrong with her and if it had something to do with a boy named Steve…

Claire drew in a shuddering breath and shut her eyes.God, this hurt so much.When was it going to stop?She'd never felt this way before in her life.How could one boy have meant so much to her?How?!

"God," she told the dark, apathetic sky, her voice sounding small and wavering in the vacant darkness of her room."You're too cruel.If you do exist you must be some kind of monster to take away the life of a young man like that.Isn't there any sense of justice in your heart?He was just looking for his parents, and you let him die, God.You let Steve…die.He didn't deserve what happened to him!What had he every done to you!He's dead, you know, and he's never coming back!Steve's…dead."

She choked on the last few words.Her heart ached painfully in her chest, and her whole body began to shake.Sadness, deep and inescapable, washed over her in one violent tide, making water well up in her eyes.She couldn't take this anymore.Wasn't there anything that could ease her pain?

_ _

_No,_ she answered herself harshly._There's nothing that can help you.The only thing that could possibly alleviate your suffering would be to see those green eyes open again, to hear that laugh of his, touch that red hair and see him alive and well…all of which is impossible.He's dead._

Yes, he is.Steve is dead, and he's never coming back.

That one thought, that one forbidden thought, those soundless words of defeat echoed in her mind until it broke the delicate wall that had held back her emotions.

And as the dark, cruel heavens looked on, Claire once again gave into her tears.


	2. Default Chapter Title

Tell the Angel's It'll Be Alright

_ _

Part Two

_ _

_Think I need a devil_

_To help me get things right_

_Hook me up a new revolution_

_Cause this one is a lie_

_We sat around laughin'_

_And watched the last one die…_

_This sucks,_ the man thought as he stood outside the hotel, hugging the backs of his arms and stomping his booted feet to keep warm._I was hoping Paris would be…warmer._

The wind laughed at his preposterous thought, lashing the man's brownish red hair into a violent frenzy and making him burrow deeper into his jacket.Cursing under his breath, he reached into the pocket of his coat, numb fingers probing around until he found a thin sheet of white paper with small writing on it.Squinting in the darkness, the man lifted the paper in front of his face, trying to keep the wind from blowing it right from his gloved hands.

The man blinked in confusion. "Every beginning is the end of another beginning," he read aloud."What the hell?That sounds like the paper inside my fortune cookie."

_ _

_Ooops!_ he realized with a start._It is!Goddamn it!_What happened to that napkin he had written the room number on?The man shoved the little fortune cookie paper back into his pocket, feeling like a total dumbass, and rifled around in his jacket pocket in vain search for that little bit of paper that held the number of refuge for him.Nothing.He checked the other pocket. Nothing.Great, he had probably blown his nose with it or something.

Now what was he going to do?Show the French concierge his fortune cookie paper?He'd be lucky if the person so much as understood English, much less spoke or read it.Well, he would just have to make his message clear with his body language.He sure as hell wasn't going to stay out here freezing his arse off for another second!

Shoving his hands deep in his empty pockets, the man hunched his shoulders and walked towards the glass doors of the hotel, picking up speed towards the end as the wind tore at his hair with renewed vigor.He pushed through the revolving doors and entered the lobby of the hotel, the bright lights assaulting his eyes.Blinking rapidly to get his vision to adjust after being for so long in the back of a dark taxi listening as the driver talked his ear off in French, the man's blue eyes took in the softly lit lobby, meant to look like a sanctuary for weary travelers who had spent one second too many in the biting cold outside its doors.Cheerful looking green plants and comfy-looking couches were placed to tempt the tired and exhausted.A TV mounted on the wall was rattling on in French.

Sighing with relief as his hands and nose began to defrost in the heat, the man looked around until he spotted another man behind the counter staring at him curiously.

_ _

_What's the matter with you?_ the man almost snapped._Haven't you ever seen an American with chattering teeth and an icicle on his nose before?_

Instead of making a bad first impression, however, the man simply strode over to the concierge, unzipping his collar as he went.

"Bonjour, Monsieur," the concierge greeted amiably.

"Um," the man floundered."I don't speak French."

"I figured as much," the concierge suddenly said in fluent English with a somewhat heavy accent.

The man let out a sigh of relief."Good," he said."You speak English.Why didn't you just do that in the first place instead of making me look stupid?"

The concierge raised his dark eyebrows, looking amused and annoyed at the same time."This is France, Monsieur.We speak French here."

The man sighed, realizing that he had probably just added to the stereotype that all Americans were rude and obnoxious."Sorry about that, sir, but I'm just really tired."

The concierge nodded."Well, Monsieur, you've certainly come to the right place.Would you like a room for the night?"

"Um," the man said uncertainly."Actually, I was supposed to meet a couple of friends here.They're Americans, too."

"Ah," the concierge said knowingly, pulling a paper out of a drawer and glancing at it.He lifted his dark eyes from the paper to the weary figure of the man with the windblown hair and ruddy cheeks across the counter from him."You must be Leon S. Kennedy, I presume?" the concierge pronounced carefully, apparently making sure he had the name right.

Leon pushed at his brownish red hair as it flopped over one of his eyes."Yeah, that'd be me.Can you tell me which rooms Chris and Claire Redfield are staying in?"

The concierge nodded."Certainly, sir.Mr. Redfield is staying in Rm. 347."

Leon paused, as if expecting the man to continue divulging more information.When he didn't the R.P.D. officer spoke up, "And Claire Redfield?Which room is she staying in?"

The concierge glanced at the paper."Mr. Redfield's room in the only one listed, Monsieur Kennedy.I'm assuming he wants you to go there first."

Leon raised an auburn eyebrow."Oh?Um, okay, then.Thanks, man."

With a wave to the amused concierge, Leon strode off in the direction of the elevators, feeling his heart begin to pound with excitement.Finally, after three months, things were going to start be getting done.With him, Chris, and Claire all working together, Umbrella was finally going to pay for their crimes.

But as the elevator doors closed behind, Leon couldn't help but wonder why only Chris' name was listed on the concierge's little sheet of paper.Maybe Claire's brother was just being protective of his little sister?If Leon was Chris, then he certainly wouldn't want any Umbrella assassins getting to Claire, but Chris' name was more widely known that Claire's.Well, after the explosions on the Antarctic Base and Rockfort Island, the very name "Redfield" was sure to be an anathema to Umbrella's ears.Just flashing the name "Redfield" under Umbrella's nose would probably be like waving a red flag in front of an angry bull.Listing either name would have been dangerous.

_ _

_Maybe he wants them to think that Claire's not with him,_ Leon thought as the elevator chimed._Or maybe he just doesn't like me._Leon really didn't think much of that scenario, though.He had talked to Chris quite a few times, over the phone and through the Internet, and the guy had seemed nice enough.

_ _

_He did seem a little preoccupied the last time I talked to him,_ Leon acknowledged silently as he walked across the plush carpet of the third floor, looking for the numbers 347._I wonder if something's wrong?Oh well, I'll ask him in a few seconds._

Coming up to room 347, Leon knocked on the door with his gloved hand and waited nervously, the paranoia that had been building over the past couple of months kicking in.He was seriously beginning to think that there might be government or Umbrella agents waiting around the corner for him.Hell, there could be an entire army barracked behind this door, and he didn't even have his trusty handgun.Damn customs.

After a moment, Leon heard heavy footsteps coming to the door and waited with a faint sense of apprehension as he imagined the person behind the door checking the peephole, having a perfect view of him even though he couldn't see them.A moment later, he heard a lock being turned.

Although he was half-expecting to suddenly be looking down the barrel of a submachine gun, all he saw was a solidly built young man with brown spikes standing up in disarray from his head, dressed in army fatigues and peering at him with shrewd blue eyes.Examining those eyes with his own azure orbs, Leon knew instantly that he would have to be careful.This man, if he was Chris, most definitely had a gun, or maybe a whole arsenal, waiting nearby.

Leon cleared his throat, leaning to the side in order to see the man better."Chris?" he asked uncertainly."I'm Leon."

Something relaxed in the elder Redfield's image, apparently recognizing the voice."Leon?" he repeated, a note of relief in his deep, level voice."Good.I've been waiting up for you.Come in."

Chris held the door open in a gesture of complete trust, and Leon walked in immediately, feeling exposed in the brightly lit hallway.The furniture in Chris' room was surprisingly tasteful, but Leon supposed that anything was better than the seedy roadside motels that he had been staying in for the past months.

"I'm glad you're here," Chris said gratefully as he shut the door behind him."How was your trip?"

"Hell," Leon answered shortly, noting the fact that across the room a door led to an adjoining room._That must be Claire's,_ he thought."My nose feels like an icicle, and I couldn't bring my handgun because of customs."

Chris gave him a wry smile, sympathizing with how much a police officer, even a rookie one, relied on a handgun."Don't worry about it.I've got plenty of guns here."

Leon glanced at the elder Redfield and raised an eyebrow."I'm not going to even ask how you got through customs with those."

Chris nodded."Wise choice."He strode across the room to the hotel table, complete with notepad and pen.The snow white sheets of the notepad were covered with unintelligible scribbles, presumably notes from telephone calls, being that the phone was sitting nearby.

"Making plans?" Leon asked as Chris sat down at the table.Chris nodded, gesturing for Leon to take the seat across from him.The rookie R.P.D. officer did so gratefully, finally stripping his gloves off of his thawing hands and flopping into the hardwood chair with a thud, eager to rest his weary limbs.

"So, what's the game plan?" Leon asked, the epitome of casualty as he leaned back in the chair, his leather jacket creaking as he did so.

Chris sighed and made a temple with his fingers in front of his face, pressing the tips of them to his high forehead as he stared at his notes.Leon couldn't help but feel a bit anxious upon seeing that gesture.His father used to make a similar gesture right before he was about to drop one of his many "bombshell" news bulletins on his oldest son.It was either "Leon, we don't have enough money to send you school here," or "Leon, you need to help us out more with your brother.He's heading down the wrong track…"Then finally came to big whopper, the atomic bomb that totally leveled Leon and took his world down with it, "Leon, you're little sister's dead.She was killed in a driveby.I'm sorry, son."

Therefore, because of all those _little_ things here and there, Leon absolutely positively hated it when people made that gesture.

Chris pressed the tips of his fingers against his mouth and sighed."Look, Leon…"

_ _

_Oh shit, here it comes.It has to be something about Claire…_

"I need to ask you a big favor," Chris continued, gaze never wavering from the travel weary man across from him.

"What is it?" Leon asked a little testily when the older Redfield's voice trailed off into nothing.

If Chris was at all bother by Leon's impatient tone, he didn't show it."About half an hour ago," he began."I received a call from Jill."

Leon jumped."Jill Valentine?Your fellow S.T.A.R.S. member?"

Chris nodded, pushing at his spiky hair with a gloved hand."Yeah, she told me that she, Barry, and an ex-Umbrella mercenary named Carlos Oliveira are housed somewhere nearby.She wants me to meet them."

Leon's eyebrows shot up eagerly at the prospect of adding more allies to their little guerilla force."You're going to go, aren't you?"

Chris nodded quickly."Yeah, but that's the thing."He suddenly leaned forward and lowered his voice."I'm going to go, but I don't want to take Claire with me."

"You're going to leave her behind again?" Leon asked flatly, thinking that the elder Redfield was acting a bit peculiar.But then again, he didn't know the guy that well.And where was Claire?

Chris rubbed his face with his gloved hands."Look," he said with restraint."I don't want to leave her behind, not so soon after finding her again.It's just that…"

Leon felt his anxiety climb a notch as he watched Chris' brow crease with deep-seated worry."What's wrong?" he asked, stiffening in his seat."Is there something wrong with Claire?"

Chris looked away and started fiddling with the discarded hotel pen, doodling on the notepad."I don't know," he muttered finally."I rescued her from the Antarctic Base mansion and we escaped just fine.She was laughing and happy to be together again.You know, just like Claire always is, confident and carefree.But I guess some sort of emotional trauma began to set in, and she started slipping away as the weeks went by.Right now, she's extremely withdrawn and unresponsive.She just sits in her room all day and all night.I don't even think she would eat unless I dragged her out of there three times a day for meals."Chris shook his spiky head morosely."I don't know what happened."

"Have you tried talking to her?" Leon asked anxiously, with a glance at the closed door across the room.

"Yes!" Chris exclaimed in frustration."I've tried a dozen times over.She doesn't tell me anything.And if I keep pushing the subject, she gets all huffy and standoffish.You know how Claire can be."

"Any idea about what is wrong with her?" Leon questioned, suddenly realizing that he was sounding exactly like a police officer interrogating a civilian or suspect.Old habits die hard.

To his surprise, Chris nodded cautiously."I have an idea.When she was running around Rockfort Island and the Antarctic Base, she wasn't alone.She had a boy, young man really, named Steve with her."

Jealousy, unexpected and unbidden, suddenly stung the back of Leon's throat."Steve?" he demanded, barely remembering to keep his voice pitched low."Who is Steve?"

"That the one million dollar question," Chris said dryly, twirling the pen around in his strong fingers."I don't know who he is or what he looks like, only that he shared all of Claire's adventures during the time I was searching for her.When I found her, she refused to leave the island until we joined back up with him.Claire and I became separated right after that, and I told her to go after Steve.She went and…I don't really know what happened."

"So where's this Steve guy?"

"He's dead."

Leon was shocked into silence, something that didn't happen very often.

"When I finally met back up with Claire," Chris explained."I heard her crying behind a locked door.She told me, in tears and through the door, that Steve was dead.I don't know what happened to him, but I think his death has really hit Claire hard."

"I know how that feels," Leon muttered, his thoughts suddenly floating on butterfly wings back to a woman with short ebony hair and chocolate brown eyes…a woman who died back in Raccoon City.He quickly pushed these thoughts away.

Chris looked at him oddly, but chose not to say anything."Anyhow," he said with sigh as he slumped down in his seat."That's why I don't want to take her with me.I was going to ask you just to stay here with her while I go meet Jill and the others.I won't be long."

Leon shrugged."That's fine by me.I don't mind."

Chris nodded gratefully."Thanks, Leon."He rose from his chair and walked over to one of the two beds.Crouching down on the floor, his combat boots creaking as he did so, he pulled out a large suitcase from underneath the bed and opened it.But instead of pulling out an overcoat or a pair of gloves, he pulled out a Browning handgun and checked the ammo in it.

"Expecting trouble?" Leon asked skeptically, trying not to think about how much he missed his own gun.

Chris slammed the clip back into the gun with a loud snap and rose to his feet."Not really," he answered."It's just the fact that this Carlos guy used to be with Umbrella bugs me a bit.I know mercenaries aren't really involved with the people they work for – just hired hands, but, still, they're known for their fickle nature.Someone offers them a bigger wad of money, and they'll turn on you in an instant."

"Aren't we Mr. Sunshine today?" Leon said with a somewhat bitter, wry smile.He was once again remembering a certain Umbrella agent who could have turned on him at any second, but didn't.Instead she stood up for him until the end, gun blazing, eyes streaming, blood flowing…

Leon shook his head as if to fling the thoughts away from him; he couldn't start thinking such things now.But as he dimly watched Chris bustle and hustle around the room, hiding weapons in his clothes, putting on his coat, and making all sorts of various preparations, he knew in his soul what he would be dreaming about tonight.

Her…Ada Wong.


	3. Default Chapter Title

Tell the Angels It'll Be Alright

**_ _**

# Part Three

_ _

_Yeah I'm looking to the sky to save me_

_Looking for a sign of life_

_Looking for something to help me burn out bright_

_I'm looking for a complication,_

_Looking cause I'm tired of lyin'_

_Make my way back home when I learn to fly…_

Claire's tears had run dry.

It always happened that way.She would lose complete control over her emotions by thinking a simple, stupid thing about Steve.One little iota of a memory would sometimes be enough to trigger off the spigots behind her eyes, which were always held ready to be released and pour their heart-eating grief down her face in a river of clear pain.She would cry and cry, sometimes for less than a minute, sometimes for hours; Claire had no control over herself during that period.The demon of Misery possessed her and manipulated her every action, and the rebellious, free-spirited Claire Redfield with the indomitable will of iron would shrink into a corner of her mind and watch as Misery ravaged her soul.

Then she would just stop.The waterfalls behind her eyes would become dried-up creek beds that could easily be refilled at any moment in time, but were fruitless for the time being.It was during this time period that Claire would crawl meekly back to herself and mold her flimsy emotions back into something resembling the woman she had once been.She would vow to herself that she was through grieving, that she was ready to move on and let Steve finally rest in peace.

Her vow was always broken by Misery some time later, maybe an hour, maybe a day, but it always ended up in broken shards that pierced her agonized heart.She was beginning to think that she was never going to recover; that Steve's death would prove to be her own deathblow.

Turning her puffy eyes up to the cold dark heavens that leered at her from behind the mask of the Paris sky, Claire felt nothing at all.Her hair hung limp over her blue eyes, the chocolate brown strands weary of wiping away tear after tear from her melancholy face.She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them tightly, trying to give herself the comfort that had come too late.

_ _

_Where does it end?_ she wondered._Where?_

A knock at her bedroom door startled her out of her thoughts, putting a temporary halt to her slideshow of memories frozen in time.

"I'm fine, Chris," she called half-heartedly, wiping her eyes hurriedly and trying to sound like she was "fine."

"Claire?" a familiar voice said."It's Leon."

"Leon?" Claire repeated dumbly as the door swung open and Leon Scott Kennedy walked into her room.

For a moment, all she did was stare.How come she had never noticed that Leon was so…attractive?Even in the shadows of her unlit room, Leon's russet hair shimmered in the moonlight like an undying flame.Three months had added a couple of inches to the length of the floppy strands, and most of the reddish hair now dangled around his chin.A few wayward strands, however, still insisted on flopping into his ocean deep eyes while others kept making playful attempts to tickle his long nose.Their efforts were in vain, however, because Leon suddenly reached up with a large hand and brushed the belligerent locks away from his face, smiling at her.

"Claire," he stated plainly."You don't know how good it is to see you again!"

But Claire was still feeling far too cold inside to formulate a reply.Unbeknownst to her, her full lips suddenly spread into a watery smile, her first in weeks.Leon grinned back and crossed the floor in three long strides, boots thudding on the floor.He came up to her chair by the window and leaned over gracefully to hug her, putting his arms around her slender shoulders and pulling her close to him.

Claire automatically slipped her arms around his torso so that they rested on his muscular back.The leather of his jacket was cold from the bitter winter, but the cheek pressed gently against hers was warm and soft, giving her silent comfort and support.Claire buried her face in the heated space between the collar of his fleece-lined jacket and his neck, breathing in the scent of him deeply.He smelled of peppermint, leather, and wind, a peculiar mixture that suddenly seduced her senses like a natural high.

"I missed ya," Leon murmured into her ear.

"I missed you, too," she said, and with a start, she realized that she was speaking the truth.She _had_ missed him, almost as much as she now missed…No!Don't start again!

Claire shut her eyes tightly against the tears that were threatening her tough façade again.She clung to her friend tightly, suddenly feeling the silly urge to bury her face in Leon's shoulder and tell him everything, about Steve, about Alexia, about all her grievances and secret sufferings that she hadn't even shared with her own beloved brother.For some reason, she felt that Leon would understand about lost loves that died valiant deaths.

But she didn't do this.Her fear of him _not_ understanding was too great; she couldn't bear to make Leon think lowly of her.She had ceased thinking highly of herself long ago, and she didn't want Leon's opinion of her to degenerate.So she satisfied herself by simply holding him tightly and basking in the unspoken comfort of his warm presence.She gently rubbed Leon's back, noting with a small smile that he had the oh-so-loathed letters R.P.D emblazoned on the back of his leather jacket like a battle banner.

_ _

_Just like Leon,_ she thought fondly, _the rebellious, non-conformist to the bitter end.Trust him to go walking straight through the bull arena like a matador with a red cape._

On an impulse, she suddenly reached up and tousled Leon's brownish-red hair affectionately, letting the silken strands sliding coyly across her fingers and palms.Leon laughed softly at her mother-like antics.Claire couldn't resist a smile either.How come she had never noticed just how blood red Leon's hair really was?Red, red just like Steve's…

_ _

_God!No, no, no!_ Claire screamed at herself as Misery tore at her soul._This isn't Steve; this is Leon!They're two entirely different people!Why?!Why do I see his face in everyone and everything I come across?!_

Leon must have sensed the turmoil of emotions in her through her rigid limbs, for he suddenly released her and stepped back, looking down at her curiously, a small smile playing across his pale pink lips.His blue eyes were filled with friendship, and Claire suddenly couldn't meet those impossibly deep azure lakes.She averted her own eyes, afraid that he would somehow see in her heart the horrible truth that, for a moment, as he had held her so gently and honestly, she had pretended he was someone else…someone long dead.What would he think of her then?

But if Leon had even caught a glimmer of her thoughts through her eyes, he gave no outward sign of it.His manner was completely relaxed as he plopped down gracefully on the carpeted floor in front of her, arranging his long legs so he wasn't sitting on them.Claire chanced a look down at him, and found a gentle smile on his handsome face, which only grew wider when she managed to muster up a small grin of her own.

"How have you been doing?" Leon asked warmly, moonlight dancing in his blue eyes like benevolent angels of the night."Enjoying Paris?"

_ _

_Not as much as I would have been…if Steve were here._

"Oh, it's beautiful," Claire replied, trying to shove her thoughts of Steve away as she and Leon began to chat about small things, their voices dethroning the silence that had previously reigned when Claire had been alone.They spoke of how Sherry was doing and how much she missed Claire.Leon told her about his "family crisis" situation – turns out his younger brother was missing yet _again_.

"Probably out dealing some dope to a bunch of crackheads, the little bastard," Leon grumbled, flicking a lock of silken hair away from his eyes.

Claire cocked her head to the side curiously."I didn't know you had a brother, Leon."

The R.P.D officer rolled his cobalt eyes."I wouldn't actually consider him a brother.I disowned him a long time ago…"

They had been talking for a long while before Claire realized that this was the first _real_ conversation she had had with Leon.She had never guessed that there were so many things about him that she didn't know or just had missed before.Like the fact that he had a younger brother named Deon ("Isn't that cute?" she had teased."Matching names!"Leon had just rolled his eyes and grinned.) who was apparently quite the belligerent trouble-maker, according to Leon.Claire had never thought of Leon as an older brother.There were now so many things she was learning about him as they sat up and talked into the night with Claire sitting like a weary old grandmother in her plush chair and Leon plopped down on the carpet in front of her, still dressed in his leather jacket and black jeans.

Several times during the course of their conversation, Claire was struck by just how handsome Leon was.She couldn't believe that she hadn't noticed such stunning male beauty before.Despite the fact that there wasn't a single light on in the room, the moonbeams streaming curiously in through the frost-covered window leapt to touch Leon's figure as he sat on the floor.These fingers of celestial light highlighted the pale curve of his cheek and clung to his long eyelashes like miniscule crystals.His impossibly deep blue eyes shimmered in the darkness with sapphire friendship and affection, crinkling at the corners as he smiled at her, perfect white teeth flashing in the gloom.Locks of russet hair blazed in utter defiance to the deep shadows of Claire's room, and more than once, she was tempted to reach out and run her fingers through it.

As they talked on and on, Claire gradually slipped into a strange, half-drowsy state in which the aura of every living thing could not escape her weak human eyes.All the demons and angels in her little sanctuary were suddenly as clear to her as they would be if a spotlight were thrown over their haloed or horned heads.Yes, there was Self-Torture slumped in the corner of the room, shrouded in blackness except for her emaciated arms, spotted with self-inflicted wounds.And there was Claire's old friend Adversity hovering just outside the window, beating his wings as he looked up to the nighttime sky to speak with the ancient stars, the great soothsayers, who see and know all.Yes, Adversity couldn't wait for his next battle with the Redfields.He was determined to win this time.

And of course there was Misery, Claire's best friend as of late, the dark angel always tapping her shoulder at the strangest times and blasting Claire with a riptide of memories that were dangerous to recall, but too sweet to be forgotten.Misery gave birth to Claire's nightmares, forcing the aggrieved young woman to prostrate herself before Eternal Torment and sing requiem after requiem for a boy named Steve.Misery wouldn't let Claire forget him.Claire could feel the demonic angel hovering behind her chair right now, glowering at every smile, every laugh, every sound of euphoria that Claire gave forth.Misery was starting to beat is wings again.

But then there was Leon, who sat before her bathed in moonlight and emanating a peculiar breed of sublime innocence, awakening in her a strange mixture of emotions that hardly had anything to do with the fact that he was gorgeous, with a body that any female would love to lust after.No, Leon was more than that.He was a light to the darkness of the soul, a wingless angel with rebellious russet hair and blazing cerulean eyes shining with mirth.His laughter sent Self-Torture deeper into her corner and made Adversity fly away in annoyance.His loving eyes threatened to alleviate Misery and shatter the unseen chains that kept Claire prisoner…

But Misery would have none of it.

The demonic angel suddenly started beating its wings in a frenzy, causing small whirlwinds in Claire's soul.The whispers of wind brushed past her heart, sending glimmers of recent memories pounding into Claire's skull.She suddenly sagged into her chair, fighting to keep her emotions down at the bottom of her soul.

Leon rocked forward onto his knees and touched her leg gently, a look of concern on his face."Claire?" he asked worriedly."Are you alright?"

_ _

_No!Help me, Leon, please!_

"Yeah," she said weakly."I'm…fine."She averted her watering eyes from his anxious blue ones, unable to look upon his heavenly light anymore.Claire was fighting Misery with all her might, but her soul was too battle-worn already, and she was rapidly losing the fight.

Leon rose to his feet and peered down at her."You don't look 'fine,'" he insisted."Are you feeling sick?"He reached out to touch her face.

_ _

_Hold me, Leon!Please!Hold me, and don't let go!_

Misery closed around her heart like a vise.

Claire jerked her face away from Leon's gentle fingers."I'm okay, Leon," she said hollowly, her voice sounding distant even to her ears."I'm just really tired."

Leon hesitated for a moment, still gazing worriedly at her.Misery waited with him, all its mnemonic weapons posed to attack, ready to invoke the valiant image of Steve if this crownless king of light, this man whose name meant "lion," threatened to liberate its hard-won victim.

Claire avoided Leon's gentle stare, keeping her shimmering eyes turned towards the window and she helplessly watched Misery contort and batter at her will like never before.

_ _

_Don't give up, Leon!Don't let Misery win.Be strong for me, because I can't.I haven't the strength._

"Claire," he suddenly said in a soft voice."Look, I know—"

Misery shoved a dagger coated with agonizing memories into Claire's heart.

"Please, Leon," Claire suddenly snapped, squeezing her eyes shut and turning so she could hide her face in the fabric of the chair."I just need to be alone right now."

_ _

_No!Don't leave me!Help!_

Misery grabbed her by the throat and choked her into silence.

Leon sighed."Alright, but if you ever need to talk, I'm always here…"

He started to walk away, boots making soft sounds of defeat on the floor as he went.Claire wanted to say something, anything to make him stay, make him understand, but Misery wouldn't release her voice.Tears trickled from the corner of her eyes, and her throat was painfully tight as she heard Leon shut the door softly behind him, taking from her room the sole source of celestial light that had grappled with Misery…and had nearly won.

For a second, the afterimage of his angelic aura shimmered stubbornly in every place through which he had passed, but the dark angels of the gloom were hungry, and soon even that light was lost.Misery was pleased…so it decided to give Claire a treat. 

In the inferno behind her eyelids, an image formed.Fiery red hair.Beautifully pale green eyes.Graceful auburn eyebrows.Porcelain skin.A short nose and a mouth with soft, kissable lips.A lean, enticing male body.Steve Burnside.

He extended his arms to Claire, the pleading look on his face so exquisite it made her heart nearly burst with grief."Claire!" he cried desperately, voice faint and distant."Come!"

"Oh, God, Steve," she whispered to the demon-filled room."If only I could.If only I could…" 


	4. Default Chapter Title

Tell the Angels It'll Be Alright

**_ _**

# Part Four

_ _

_I think I'm done nursing the patients_

_It could wait one night_

_I'll give it all away_

_If you give me one last try_

_ _

NOTE:There's a direct reference to my fic Requiem in here.Just so you don't get confused; it's nothing really big, so don't worry.^_~

_ _

The stench of the Power Room was stifling.The bitter smell of melting iron permeated the air like a thick jungle musk, making a point of worming its way up Leon's nose.Leon hated this smell; it made him think of blood.Why was he even here?Oh yeah, because there was nowhere else in Umbrella's secret lab to go.He had checked all of the other rooms, and this one was the only one left.He had been fortunate enough to spot the Power Room key lying on the table in the lab.He had been even more fortunate to be able to snatch the key before that freaky naked zombie had taken a bite out of his neck.

But now that he was here, Leon could see that his fancy zombie-evading footwork to obtain the key had been for almost nothing.The Power Room was desolate except for a weird metal column running down the center with a control panel at its base.Leon didn't care much about that as he strode further into the room with his Remington shotgun held ready to face trouble.He had seen enough weird control panels to last him an entire lifetime.

_ _

_…it's so cold in here…_

Once Leon saw that there were no enemies lurking in the corners for him, he lowered his shotgun and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his wartorn jumpsuit.Wrinkling his long nose at the horrible stench in the room, Leon trudged into the center of the wide metal walkway with his weary limbs dragging his entire body weight.He was so tired and exhausted that he was on the verge of collapsing.That stupid Tyrant had really done a number on him this time; he felt as if someone had beaten him from head to toe with a sledgehammer.

_ _

_I HATE Tyrants, he thought grumpily.__That ugly bastard in that weird green dress has bashed me around the entire time I've been here.Well, not anymore!Next time, I'm gonna…_

The earth suddenly shook beneath Leon's feet.He felt a dark presence looming behind him like a bat-winged demon ready to devour him whole.Injuries forgotten, he whirled around as quickly as he could…and found himself gazing into the soulless white eyes of the Tyrant.Its horribly ugly face loomed almost two feet over Leon's head, and though the abomination hadn't the power to show emotion, Leon almost imagined that the creature was smirking at him.

Heart thundering in his chest and flooding his system with adrenaline, Leon reacted almost immediately, raising his Remington and pointing upwards, aiming to blow the monster's head all the way to kingdom come.

Leon had been fast, but the Tyrant was faster.It suddenly swung one of its battering ram sized fists at the gun just as Leon pulled the trigger.Leon's trusty shotgun flew from his hands like an out-of-control pinwheel, and the high-powered shot went wild, striking the opposite wall.As the R.P.D. officer watched in growing horror, the beloved shotgun that had saved his sorry ass in tight situations whirled wildly over the edge of the walkway, disappearing over the side and plummeting to the level below.It made a soft plopping sound as it fell into the iron smelting pool, lost forever.

## 

## …lost forever in the labyrinth.No escape…

Dread and fear took holds on Leon's heart, digging their poison-tipped claws into the pulsating organ.Blue eyes wide, he turned just in time to see the Tyrant rearing back to swing again.Leon panicked and ran, knowing that he didn't have any more weapons that would cripple the Tyrant.Serves him right for leaving that goddamned Magnum back in his box…

Leon felt the Tyrant's fist slice the air behind him as he ran towards the back of the room with his blood roaring in his ears._There had better be a way out! he thought wildly.__Please let there be a way out!I can't die down here!_

He had to backpedal furiously to avoid hitting a metal wall.There was no way out…

"Shit!" Leon cursed out of anger and fear.This couldn't be the end!

## 

## …no end to the pain…

Whirling around, Leon was greeted with the terrifying sight of the Tyrant bearing down on him, murder written in every step of its gargantuan feet and swing of its humongous hands.Its empty eyes gleamed in the dimly lit Power Room, and Leon could see sections of gray, vein-covered flesh through the tears in its green "dress."So, this was what Death looked like…

_ _

_…no, Death wears a white lab coat and is armed to the teeth with knowledge and cold intellect…_

But Leon wasn't going down so easily.Rage suddenly burned his heart, obliterating any form of pain that had previously ailed his body.He may not be some big shot S.T.A.R.S. member or veteran cop, but he wasn't going down without a fight.Gritting his teeth with determination, he started to reach for his handgun, looking like David preparing to fight Goliath.

A gunshot suddenly split the putrid air of the Power Room.The Tyrant came to an abrupt stop as blood flew from its shoulder and splattered the floor in front of the dumbstruck Leon.The monstrosity stopped its ominous onslaught and spun around to face its new attacker.

"Run!" Ada Wong cried desperately, her slender form visible now that the Tyrant had moved out of the way.Leon's heart sank as he saw the blood dripping from her wounded shoulder and pooling on the ground, leeching away her strength.Pain and anxiety contorted her beautiful face into a determined but terrified mask of dark tragedy.Her brown eyes were steady as they locked onto the rapidly approaching form of the Tyrant.All she had in her bloodstained hands was a handgun…

"Ada!" Leon cried as the Tyrant moved away from him and started lumbering over to the ravaged and vulnerable figure of Ada Wong.God, this wasn't happening!

_ _

_…can't believe what happens down here.Innocents sacrificed for…_

_…our souls bound to them by blood, expecting no liberation…_

But Ada did not hear Leon's desperate cry.Out of either weariness or determination, she didn't move from her position in the Tyrant's path.Instead, her eyes blazed with noble light as she lifted her handgun and started firing round after round into the Tyrant's approaching figure, each bullet igniting miniature spigots of blood as it tore through the Tyrant's coat and pierced the gray flesh underneath.The Tyrant's approach slowed a little with each new wound, and Leon felt a weak hope suddenly start beating its fragile wings in his chest.Maybe she had enough bullets…

Ada pulled the trigger.

Click.

_ _

_Oh no!_

Click. Click.Click.

Her gun was empty!_Ada, reload! Leon thought in a panic, watching the scene unfold before his eyes with a heavy heart and frozen limbs._

_ _

_…we will die here…_

The next act of this horrific tragedy was done in slow motion.Leon could only watch in utter horror as Ada reached into her side pack and fumbled around for an extra clip with agonizing slowness, the cold metal slipping again and again from her blood-wet grasp.The Tyrant was still bearing down on her, nothing left to deter him from his dark course.Ada managed to slip her clip into the handgun, but it was already too late.

_ _

_…too late for me.Too late for her.But too late for us all?Rook is still young…_

_…I am the first.I must save them from this imprisonment…_

"Ada!" Leon cried, beside himself in emotional agony as he saw the Tyrant's murderous fist reached down and close on Ada's delicate throat, the bloated digits tightening around the pale flesh.Ada's eyes widened in pain as the Tyrant lifted her slender body into the air above its head, its figure exuding menace.God, this was too cruel!A woman with a handgun against all the monstrous muscle of a Tyrant?!The fate of the battle was already there, written in blood, but at the last moment, as she hung in Death's grip with her feet dangling uselessly, Ada defied fate with everything she had…which was her heart and a handgun. 

Twisting in the Tyrant's grasp, Ada brought her handgun to bear on the behemoth, angels guiding her aim to what her darkening vision could not see.She emptied three rounds in quick succession straight into the Tyrant's face, and the creature was blinded by the red river of its own blood.As Leon watched helplessly, the Tyrant began to reel drunkenly, its free hand up to its bleeding face as Ada dangled bonelessly in its grasp.Then, with all the abruptness of the Reaper bringing its scythe down for the killing blow, the Tyrant brutally flung Ada to the side, sending her fragile body careening into the control panel with such a force that it made a humongous dent in the metal and sent electrical shudders up the metal shaft behind the panel.Ada's face twisted in pain as blood flew everywhere, staining the floor around her a deep shade of red.A horrendous cry of agony ripped from her throat and flew across the power room like an angel-winged demon to pierce Leon's heart and reanimate his limbs.He started to run.

_ _

_…twenty, twenty, twenty four hours to go.I wanna be sedated.Ha.Ha.Ha…_

Leon was heedless of the Tyrant tottering over the edge of the walkway and falling into the iron smelting pool, a demon blasted back into its fiery hell.All he saw was the woman with the raven hair and chocolate brown eyes slumped with such grim finality in a pool of her own blood, dying, dying for him…All he knew was her; he wanted to hold her, tell her that he…

Then Leon's world collapsed, he was falling.There was darkness all around him; Ada was gone.Gone, gone forever into the abyss of death.Why did it have to end this way?!Why?!He was supposed to protect her!This was too cruel._Ada…give me another chance!God, god… _

"God!" Leon screamed into the endless void of dream, his rage and heartbreak resonating like Death rampant on a battlefield."Where are you now, Almighty King of Heaven?!Where's that justice that everyone preaches about?!"

_ _

_…shot to hell…_

_…we must survive…_

It was then that Leon noticed for the first time that he was not alone.That this strange voice which spoke and sang at sporadic moments was not his own.Confusion, lethal and dangerous, suddenly inundated his senses, and he desperately searched the darkness all around him with eyes that weren't really there, trying to pinpoint something that he knew couldn't really be seen.

_ _

_…I'm dying for my sins…_

"Who are you?" Leon asked with his soundless dream voice, suddenly desperate to know who or what it was.This heartfelt anxiety, borne of a lifetime trying to defend a corrupt system, to protect a hollow center, rang throughout the void of darkness, searching with demonic fervor for the origin of this voice that spoke of the strangest things.

But Leon's entreaty received no answer.Silence rang unchallenged throughout the darkness of dream, taunting him.

He continued to fall.

Down…

Down…

Down…

He hit the ground, bruising his knees on the wall of solid darkness that he had just landed on._What? Leon wondered, seeing his gloved hands plastered on the "ground," which was just darkness that appeared to fall forever for all he could see.__Where am I?What is this place?_

_ _

_…suffering for my evils, crucified for what I am…_

"Who's there?"Leon looked up, and nearly died from shock at what he saw.

Hanging in the middle of the void of darkness was a cross, a simple one made of wood, probably the typical type of cross that the Romans used to crucify people back during their mighty reign.And on that cross was a man, a man who was dressed in the tattered remains of an R.P.D. police jumpsuit. This man's wrists were bound to the wood of the cross with small belts of what looked to be metal.His booted feet were bound in a similar fashion.Long locks of reddish hair flopped forward, hiding the man's downturned face from Leon's view.

But Leon didn't need to see the man's face.He already knew what it would look like.He saw the same face in the mirror everyday.

"What is this?" Leon cried, utterly horrified by the sight of himself – or was it just his body? – hanging crucified from a cross in the middle of an abyss.The air stank of misery and death, the stench ten times greater than that of the Power Room."Answer me!" Leon screamed, forcing himself to his feet, eyes riveted on the ghastly figure bound to the cross."I know you're here, whoever you are!"

_ _

_…I watch, and I am always here…_

With that, a figure materialized on the cross, its booted feet planted on either side of the crucified man's head with an air of superiority.The figure's loose white garments billowed in an unseen breeze with a demonic foreboding, and its strawberry blond hair sharply contrasted with the deathly pale skin of its face, which was fiercely handsome yet possessed unsurpassable cruelty.Its electric blue eyes, as they stared down at Leon, were colder than the darkest region of heaven and drove ice into the core of Leon's heart.The face of this new man was inanimate, but that didn't stop Leon from perceiving the subtle aura of menace hanging in the putrid air.Danger was plastered all over this man.It was written in his apathetic face and heartless eyes.It was woven into his flapping snow-white clothes and pale skin.But most of all it was intricately coupled with the two blood-red angel wings that were folded behind the man's back like crimson panthers ready to spring at a victim.The bloody feathers of these appendages rustled in the breeze with a strange sort of deadly anticipation.

But the worst thing about this new man, this crimson-winged angel that hovered over the pitiful figure crucified on the cross, was that Leon recognized him.

"Deon?" he whispered in disbelief, taking a step towards the cross, eyes riveted to the horribly angelic figure of his younger brother."Is that you?"

No answer.Deon – if it was Deon – didn't so much as bat an eyelash at his brother's desperate entreaty.

"Deon!" Leon cried again, his voice gaining in volume."Answer me!What are you doing here!"

_ _

_…murderer…_

Leon stopped his advance, dumbstruck.His brother hadn't even opened his mouth.Deon was still standing there on the cross above the other Leon's crucified form, his russet wings and white clothes clashing with the darkness that extended into forever behind him.There wasn't a flicker of emotion in his eyes.

"Did you say that?" Leon demanded in frustration."What do you mean by that?!I've killed no one!"

_ _

_…you let her die…_

Leon jumped back as if slapped."No!" he gasped, his heart thudding in his chest as he stared angrily at his brother's motionless form."It wasn't me!I didn't do it!"

_ _

_…coward!Admit it!You're damned, just like us!…_

Leon's hands flew to his head, fingers sinking into the russet locks.He shook his head desperately, as if to cleanse it of the unseen voice's words."No!No!No!" he cried through clenched teeth."There was nothing I could do!I didn't want her to die!"

_ _

_…dispensing what you call justice.You chose by not choosing.You stood by and watched…_

Leon fell to his knees in plaintive agony."No!" he whispered fiercely, blood roaring in his ears as tears stung his eyes."That's not it at all!I would have stopped it if I could!I didn't want it to end this way!Oh, god, Ada…"

_ _

_"I'm just a woman who…fell it love with you…nothing more."_

"Give me another chance," Leon begged, but to whom he was begging, either Ada or the crimson-winged angel on the cross, he didn't know.

_ _

_…no more chances.You've lost this gamble…_

_…you'll lose her to Misery if you don't watch out…_

_…don't fail her, too…_

Something broke through Leon's agony like a desperate hand clawing for release from an icy prison.He lifted his streaming eyes from the darkness below him and focused them on the cold, aloof figure standing like the angel of Judgment on the wooden cross.Deon's strawberry blond hair was whipped into a frenzy by wind that Leon could not feel, and a portion of Deon's white shirt had flown up to reveal a section of well-muscled, scarred flesh on his pale stomach.

"What do you mean?" Leon murmured feverishly."You're not talking about…Claire, are you?"The very prospect of Claire being harmed, either physically or emotionally, terrified him to the marrow of his bones.

The figure didn't reply.

Leon leapt to his feet, suddenly beside himself with panic."Well, are you?!" he demanded of the crimson-winged Deon."What's happening to Claire?!If anything happens to her, I'll…just…"

He fell silent, voice eaten by the dark void, as his powerfully beating heart thundered painfully in his chest with a newfound emotion."Claire," Leon whispered, tears rolling down his face."Claire…I…"

Terror suddenly gripped his soul, and Leon lifted his eyes slowly to the figure of Deon standing on the cross.A sense of hungry anticipation suddenly hung in the air, making the foul stench of the dreamland even more rank.Things were becoming distorted and hazy, and Leon was starting to feel detached from his surroundings.The dream was falling apart.

Then Deon suddenly smiled, thin lips pulling back over perfect white teeth.But it was not a nice smile; it was an insane, bitter expression of mirthless mockery that reflected the strange light gleaming in Deon's eyes.Shudders ran down Leon's spine.Then the voice came again.

_ _

_…we twist and turn where angels burn…_

The crimson wings suddenly unfurled from behind Deon's back like the fiery plumage of the Phoenix.Their tips stretched far above Deon's head, two pious blood-covered fingers extending their prayers to the dark heavens.Dozens of red feathers drifted down from their respective wings, unsettled by the sudden motion and seeking liberation.Deon suddenly held a sword in his hands, a mighty thing with a gleaming blade and a golden handle.Leon's blood ran cold.

_ _

_…like fallen soldiers we will learn…_

Deon flicked his electric blue eyes pointedly down at the crucified figure beneath him, who suddenly twitched, russet hair flapping in the roaring wind.The wood of the cross creaked as the figure shifted position._Oh__my god! Leon thought in horror.__He's alive!_

_ _

_…that once forgotten, twice removed…_

As the crucified figure continued to stir, surging weakly against its bindings, Deon suddenly raised the sword over his head with the blade pointing downwards, the tip of it shining with some internal light.His horrible smile suddenly widened, and Leon realized what was about to happen.

"Deon!" he cried in horror."No!Don't do it!"

_ _

_…love will be the death…_

Leon started to run again, his legs pumping steadily and his booted feet pounding the insubstantial ground of darkness.Horror and revulsion rose in his throat like poisonous bile as his blue eyes remained horribly fastened on the visage of his brother, sword upraised and crimson wings unfurled, ready to drive a sword into the heart of a living man, a man that bore Leon's face.

"Deon!" he cried again, voice hoarse with grief."No!"

_ _

_…the death of…_

The crucified figure suddenly raised it head, and Leon nearly died from shock._It's not me! he thought wildly, his limbs paralyzed as the pitiful figures' eyes locked onto his.__It isn't me!It's…_

_ _

_…YOU…_

Deon's sword came down, ill-fated blade whooshing and whistling through the air of dream, on a collision course with the man's exposed chest.

Leon woke up.

He shot upright in bed, clawing at the air with his numb fingers, realizing belatedly that there was nothing there to attack.His heartbeat thundered in his ears like the roar of an awakening beast, and sweat glistened on his chest like tiny crystals.The darkness and silence of the hotel room was complete except for the sounds of his ragged breathing and soft whimpers.His legs were tangled up in the sheets, and he was shivering.

Leon covered his sweaty face with his trembling hands."Just a dream," he told himself fiercely."Just a dream…"

The cold air of the hotel room closed in on him, drying the sweat on his chest and trying to drag him back to the real world.The angels and demons of the time period called Here and Now locked their arms around the shaken Leon and yanked him back to reality, making him aware of the clean bed beneath him and the sheets tangled around his waist.Memories came flooding over him in a tide.Arriving in Paris.Talking with Claire.Chris calling and saying that he would bring their new allies and rendezvous with Leon and Claire tomorrow.Getting into bed, thinking of Claire.And that was all he recalled.

"What a dream," Leon murmured, lifting the hem of his sleeveless shirt and wiping the sweat from his brow."What happened?"He strained to remember, but all the details of the dream were starting to get fuzzy and distorted, like all his dreams did after he had been awake for a few seconds.He vaguely recollected something about Ada Wong and his brother.But there was something else behind all that, something dancing on the verge of realization, something about a crimson-winged angel and Claire Redfield…

_ _

_Maybe I should watch some TV, Leon thought shakily as he tried to disentangle himself from the blankets.__Don't want to be going back to sleep again.I probably couldn't if I wanted to.Or maybe I should…_

Then he heard Claire scream, and all he thought of was her. 

_Author's Note:Okay, I didn't mean for this part to be this long, but it just took off without me, and I had no choice but to follow.This fic is getting closer to its grand finale; I think I just have one more part to write.Oh, and another thing I wanted to mention. The lyrics at the beginning are from the Foo Fighters song "Learn to Fly." The "twenty, twenty, twenty four hours to go…" line belongs to the Ramones.And the "We twist and turn where angels burn…" lines that the crimson-winged angel recited at the end of Leon's dream belongs to Savage Garden.Okay, I guess that's about it for the little disclaimer stuff.Hope to be seeing ya soon with the final chapter… ~Catalina_


	5. Default Chapter Title

Tell the Angels It'll Be Alright

Part Five

_ _

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.They all belong to Capcom.I don't in any way make money for this so don't sue. The amazing and wonderful song "Learn to Fly" is by the Foo Fighters. 

_ _

_Okay, here's the thing. Sorry I took forever on this. I wanted to give this fic a good ending, but it didn't turn out that way.To be frank and blunt, I think this chapter sucks my ass.I really do.I don't know what went wrong. ::sighs in defeat::But I really, really tried my best…sorry.Just give it a read, eh?Hopefully some people will beg to differ…_

_ _

* * * * * * * * *

_ _

_We'll live happily ever after trapped_

### If you just save my life

### Fly along with me

_I can't quite make it alone_

_Try and make this life my own_

_ _

A sense of foreboding hung in the air, hiding its monstrous face behind the mists that permeated the room.Death on its white steed was lurking in the shadows of the throne room, and in the back of her mind, Claire knew it, but refused to defer to its might.Instead, she tightened her sweaty grip on the key card and slid it through the slot in the reader, watching with controlled anxiety as the iron grid in front of her creaked and screamed in protest as it was slowly pulled into the ceiling by the electronic trigger.

_ _

_Is Steve here? Claire wondered nervously as she walked over to the threshold and peered into the mist that covered the throne room.__Mist doesn't belong inside, she thought.__There has to be something in here.This is where Steve's voice was coming from, right?Right!_

Taking a deep breath, resolve hardening her beautiful features, she tightened her grip on her assault rifle and took a step into the room.A loud click suddenly sounded from behind her, ringing endlessly in the silence.Claire turned and glared suspiciously at the door to the room, as if the intensity of her gaze would make it unlock again.She felt anxiety rise unbidden in her heart, but she hurriedly pushed it away.Now wasn't the time to be worrying about a damn door!Steve was in here, and she had to get to him first!

Forcing herself to look away from the locked door, she walked into the throne room, her legs unsettling the fog that had made its home close to the metal floor.Her heart was thudding in her chest so loudly that she was surprised it didn't create echoes in the ominous room.Dozens of suits of armor stood against the walls like living sentinels, watching Claire smugly as she strode quickly past, wanting to get to the end of the corridor as quickly as possible.She didn't like the paranoid thoughts she was having about things hiding in the suits of armor.She kept thinking that she saw a Hunter crouched in the corner, or a zombie lying hidden in the mist on the floor, ready to sink its infected teeth into her legs as she strode by.

But the thing that kept her heart beating in her throat with barely repressed anxiety was the faint sound of someone breathing that echoed slightly in the silent room.It could be anyone – Alexia, Steve, or some other survivor of this nightmare island, just waiting in the mists for her to come across them…or it could just be her imagination, but Claire's instincts told her that someone was in here, and her instincts rarely ever failed her.That was why she had come to be sort of an expert at surviving in such impossible conditions.

And now her trusted instincts told her to hurry up…so she did.

With her assault rifle clutching tightly in her gloved hands and her boots thudding loudly on the metal floor, Claire ran down the corridor, splitting the mists like a dagger as she shot through them.It wasn't long before she reached the end of the corridor…and saw what was there.

She stumbled to a stop, not believing her eyes.But it was really him!

"Steve?!" she called, a mixture of relief and anxiety making her normally confident tone sound wavering and uncertain.

Steve Burnside sat completely motionless in a metal chair, bound to it with two large metal straps and a super large ax that was embedded in the wall right next to his handsome face.His head was lolled onto his broad shoulder, blood red hair shining defiantly in the dimness of the throne room, a flame that refused to die.The handle of the grotesquely long ax was crossed over Steve's torso, preventing him from moving…not that he looked like he was going to anyways.His eyes were shut tightly, the flesh around them dark from sleep deprivation and the aftermath of fear, making him look like some extraordinarily handsome yet weary angel fallen from the heavens to the dark prison of the earth.Claire felt her heart pounding with anxiety as, for a split second, Steve made no reply to her voice.He wasn't dead, was he?

Then she saw his eyelids flutter open slowly.He lifted his head from his shoulder and blinked in her direction with bleary eyes, black pupils dilating and retracting like lonely islands within their pale green seas.

"Ugh…Claire?" he croaked, nasal voice echoing in the mist-covered room.God, she had never been so happy to hear another person's voice in her entire life!She had the sudden, silly urge to run over to him and rock him back and forth until he got better, but, of course, her pride and I'm-tough-as-nails attitude would never have allowed such a thing.

Instead, she hung her assault rifle across her chest by its strap and ran over to Steve, her euphoria quickly turning to full-fledged concern as she noticed how deathly pale and tired he looked, even more than usual.His face seemed frozen in a grimace of pain, and his eyes weren't focusing quite like they should be.Anger suddenly coursed through her veins.What the hell had Alexia done to him?God, if he died, then Claire was going to find the crazy bitch and kill her with her bare hands!

A painful moan from Steve as he struggled against his binds made Claire push away her revengeful thoughts in shame and spur herself into action.Casting one last worried glance at Steve, she rushed over to the button on the wall beside Steve's chair and punched it.Like she had suspected, all the metal straps released with a whooshing sound, and Steve sagged in the chair, arms and legs going limp as their metallic supports vanished.

_ _

_Steve, are you going to be like this forever? Claire thought as she took hold of the ax, the only thing keeping him imprisoned.Keeping a careful eye Steve, fearful that he would lapse back into unconsciousness again, she tugged as hard as she could on the handle of the enormous ax, the wood cutting into the palms of her gloves as she did so.Her face creased with effort, and Steve grasped the handle weakly in an attempt to help her.Damn it!The ax wasn't giving a single inch!_

"It's no use!" she exclaimed in panic and frustration."I can't do it!"

Steve made no reply, and Claire glanced over to see that it appeared he was going to fall unconscious again.Desperate now, she put her hand on his shoulder, noticing that his skin was unnaturally warm.

"Who did this to you?" Claire demanded, though she was willing to bet her favorite motorcycle that it was a certain insane, sniper rifle-toting blonde woman who had been causing nothing but grief to both Claire and Steve ever since they had first encountered her.

Steve stirred weakly, his face still twisted in agony and his pale hands wrapped tightly around the handle of the ax.When he spoke, however, his voice was slightly frantic, and the words came tumbling out of his mouth in an almost incoherent rush."That…crazy woman," he stammered."Said that she was going to…perform…the same experiment on me…that she did on her own father!"

He weakly lifted his right hand from the ax and showed her the back of it.At first Claire had no idea what he wanted her to see, but then she caught sight of a small puncture wound – most likely made by a needle – in the middle of his pale skin, right over the winding blue-green river of a vein.

"She's gone completely…insane!" Steve rambled, dropping his hand back down.

Claire was about to say something encouraging when Steve suddenly screamed in pain, his pale green eyes flying open wide.His hands, weak and flimsy until then, twisted themselves into claws and scratched at his chest.His back suddenly went ramrod straight in his metal chair, his chest brushing against the handle of the ax.He let out another painful bellow as his face contorted with unseen agony.

_ _

_Oh my god! Claire panicked.__What's happening to him?!_

"Steve, what's wrong?!" she cried, placing her hands on either side of his face, trying in vain to get him to calm down.The intense heat of his flesh stung her hands even through her gloves, but Claire wasn't given much chance to ponder this abnormal development before Steve's hand suddenly lashed out quicker than the eye could see, hitting her in the arm and flinging her away from him.Shocked, Claire stumbled to a stop a few feet away from where Steve was still writhing in agony.

"Claire!" he cried in a panic as his hands still continued to claw at his chest."Can't…breathe!"

"Steve!" she cried, unable to do anything else to help him.The terror and panic she saw in his eyes was heart-breaking, and she knew that the memory of those eyes would haunt her for the rest of her life.

Suddenly, Steve's entire body went rigid, his claw-like fingers poised above his chest."Claire," he whimpered, eyes drilling into her with child-like abandon."Help…me…Claire…"

The last incantation of her name was said in a voice that wasn't his, a voice that was harsh and deep, made for bellowing and roaring rather than speaking.It was followed by a sudden burst of blood that erupted from Steve's chest and splattered the ground inches from Claire's feet.Steve's eyes fell closed, human for the last time, and his body began to contort and convulse as the monster's seed Alexia had planted in his blood began to gestate and rip through his fragile form.

Claire's hands flew to her mouth in utter horror as she watched Steve's body mass triple in size.His clothes ripped and tore as patches of thick, scaly green hide replaced his soft human skin.His feet became horribly warped and grew claws at the ends of them – demon's feet.Bone-like extrusions shot out from the area that used to be Steve's shoulder.The handle of the ax shuddered with the force of restraining the unholy creature he was becoming.

His head was the last thing to change.Claire screamed Steve's name in vain as the neck twisted and lengthened, the newly born monster bellowing with glee as it felt its form on the verge of completion.Scaly green hide covered Steve's face like the spread of a disease, and the strands of his hair hardened and fused together until they looked more like bone extrusions on his shoulders than the soft, fiery locks that Claire had loved to tousle when Steve was least expecting it.Pebbly ridges grew up Steve's back and up the nape of his thick, scaly neck.The behemoth that had once been Steve Burnside lowered it head to allow the ridges to spread and complete their growth.It grunted and bellowed with demonic euphoria.

Then everything was silent.Steve Burnside was gone.

The monster that Claire had once called her friend lifted its abominable head and fastened its hungry, red eyes with their slit-pupils on the horrified figure of Claire Redfield.It's fang-filled mouth gaped open, as if trying to speak.

"No!" Claire choked out, tears springing into her eyes."Wait!"

Please hear me, Steve!You have to be in there!You can't be gone!Don't let the virus beat you!Please, Steve…hear me…

But the creature that Steve had become could hear nothing, spoken or unspoken.It had one thought and one desire, a single need that pulsed through its brain: Kill.

And so it intended to do so.

Claire watched in mounting horror as the behemoth easily pulled the ax from the wall and lurched to its powerful feet.She choked back a scream when she saw that in the place of her friend, the one who had saved her life from the Bandersnatch, the one who she had spent hours talking happily with in the snowmobile, the one who used to swat her ponytail back and forth until he learned his lesson – in place of Steve Burnside now stood a monstrous creature twice as tall as Claire.Its limbs rippled with muscles; its shoulders and chest were huge.But the worst of all were the eyes.Instead of extraordinarily beautiful lakes of pale green were slitted crimson orbs that revealed a void in which no emotion at all existed, where hunters reigned supreme, destroying anything and everything in their paths.

_ _

_Oh, god, Steve!This is too cruel!God, do something!He doesn't deserve this!_

Her silent pleas to a callous deity were cut short when she heard the unmistakable sounds of the iron grid closing at the end of the corridor, eager to trap her in a cage with a hungry monster. Her heart began to thunder in her chest, pumping adrenaline through Claire's system as the Steve monster still stood staring down at her, as if waiting for some unseen signal to begin its dark ritual killing.It smiled.

Then it took one mighty step forward and swung the ax at her.Claire immediately jumped backwards as the blade of the ax whooshed through the air in front of her.In a split second, reflexes kicked in and she had her assault rifle in her hands, finger on the trigger.She felt the enraging battle calm descend over her heart like an angel with gilded wings, and for a moment, as she stood there staring into the eyes of the frothing creature that wanted to kill her, she wished for nothing more than to blow the monster with ax off the face of the earth.

But then she remembered Steve, his face, his laugh, his eyes, and she felt the icy calm melt and wither like a snowball in hell.She couldn't do it; she would rather turn the gun on herself.

So, out of options and seeing no other way to escape this horrible nightmare, she ran, with tears blurring her vision and her heart heavy as lead in her chest.

The longest moments in her entire life took place then, her bleary eyes focused on nothing else but the slowly descending iron grid that was bent on aiding the demons of hell in delivering her into death.Her breath whooshed in and out of her lungs, and her heart thundered in her ears, but she didn't hear these things.Instead, she heard the horrible pounding sounds the Steve monster's feet made as it chased her.Everything from the clacking of its toe claws to the hollow thumping sound as its heel struck the floor didn't escape her ears.She heard its deadly, lethal breathing as it followed not even five feet behind her.And she heard the whoosh of the ax blade as it split the air at her back like a shark's fin through water, missing her by mere millimeters and decapitating the suit of armor she had just passed.Close one!

Unfortunately, the next two swipes did not miss her.Pain exploded across her senses as she felt the monster's ax blade scrape the area across her shoulder blades, opening up a huge gash that spewed blood out like an angry river.Her reaction was automatic.First Aid Spray.

And she continued to run.

Two more running strides.Monster breathing on her neck.Feet pounding.Grid getting closer to the floor.

_ _

_C'mon, Redfield!Run!Run!Run!_

Pain!!!Another hit, this one in the opposite direction, forming a bloody cross on her back.Mixed herb.

Running, running, running!So close!The monster was right behind her!No more time!She sensed the ax flying past her back and knocking over another suit of armor.Another close one!

Please!I have to make it!I don't want to die!Please, God, please, please, please!!!

The bottom of the grid wasn't even two feet off the floor when Claire lurched forward with her arms outstretched, tears streaming down her face and the Steve monster right behind her with the murderous ax stained with her blood.Friction burned the bare flesh of her arms, and the clash of the assault rifle's metal barrel on the floor made sparks fly, but her human mind was only focused on one and one thing only: escape.

Her feet had barely slid underneath the descending grid before it came crashing down onto the floor, Steve's ax striking iron bars instead of shapely legs clad in blue jeans.The monster roared in anger, infuriated that its prey had escaped.

Claire immediately leapt to her feet, knees a bit wobbly as the adrenaline that had propelled her throughout her crazed run began to ebb.The Steve monster bellowed again and began to pound the iron grid with its bloody ax, looking like a bloodthirsty demon crying release from its prison.Forcing herself not to look at the beast she had once called a friend, Claire stumbled to the right and leaned her weight against the wall, tears trickling out of the corners of her eyes as she listened to the clanging of the ax against the iron grid.Heaving for breath, she heard her rational mind telling her to get the hell out of there – eventually, the iron grid was going to break and she would be at the monster's mercy.

But Claire was done listening to her rational mind.Her mind didn't matter anymore; her every action was being manipulated by her heart now.But as she turned her agonized eyes to the hungry monster pounding on the iron grid, she felt that heart breaking.She didn't see that the iron grid was starting to bend and dent already; she didn't even see the scaly monster, really; instead, she saw Steve and his terrified eyes as he cried her name for the last time.

"I'm sorry, Steve," she whispered, tears running down her face."You wanted me to help you…you called out to me.I failed you!"

The monster's only response was to roar and pound harder on the bars.Claire imagined that she could still hear the phantom of Steve's voice in the monster's cries.

Then, quite suddenly, the wall between her right leg and the iron grid burst open, and something long and green and scaly spewed out like poisonous bile, writhing and contorting in the air like a laughing demon.Claire stared in shock.What the hell was it?

_ _

_The tentacle! she realized, and raised her assault rifle._

But it was too late.

Quicker than lightening, the thick head of the tentacle shot towards her, landing a devastating blow on her shoulder that left her entire arm numb with pain and sent her flying into the wall.She screamed as the assault rifle flew from her gloved hands to land on the floor, out of her reach.Her other shoulder struck the wall with jarring force, and she slumped to the ground like a rag doll.

_ _

_No!No!No!This isn't happening! Claire thought wildly as she tried to wrestle to her feet, a considerable feat when one considered the fact that the room was spinning.__Now I have two monsters to deal with!_

Suddenly, she saw something snake-like and green come flashing towards her again.This time Claire wasn't even given the chance to fling up her hands before she felt the tentacle wrap around her waist like an iron clamp, pinning her arms uselessly to her sides.To her immense horror, she felt herself being lifted from the floor and into the air, her feet kicking at space as the tentacle gripped her carelessly, like she was some meaningless toy that could be discarded at anytime.Claire was suddenly gasping for air as the tentacle began to squeeze tighter, cutting off her circulation and her air passage.Her insides felt mashed, and she was already starting to lose feeling in her lower body.Darkness began to creep into the corners of her vision like demons from the shadows.

Then she heard the most horrible sound in her life: the sound of grinding metal and low grunting.

The Steve monster had broken through the grid.

The tentacle suddenly shifted Claire's struggling body so she could see very clearly the creature that would be the death of her.It lumbered over to where she was held suspended in mid-air, grunting – almost laughing – the whole way over.Light gleamed off the ax blade.It looked up at her with its slitted red eyes and bared its teeth in another one of its ghastly grins.And Claire stared back for as long as the darkness intruding on her vision would allow, her heart brimming with words unspoken.Her voice may have been taken from her, but her tears and emotions hadn't been.

Steve…well, I suppose there are worse ways to die than by your hands.Go ahead, you monster!Monster that took him away from me!Bring your ax down!At least I'll be able to see him again…the boy you killed, the kind-hearted boy Alexia Ashford ruined so that you could be born!Strike me down!I'm not afraid of you!

But she was.She didn't want to die.

That's why when the monster grunted and raised the ax above its head for the final blow, Claire turned her face to the side, unable to look Death in the face.She closed her eyes and waited, waited for the swipe that would end her life…

But it didn't come.

Instead, she heard a choking, gurgling sound coming from the monster's throat, like it was gagging on its own tongue.

Then it spoke. "Cl-Claire???" it asked in a coarse, rough voice.

Claire's heart stopped for an instant, then soared with angel's wings raising it up high.

_ _

_Steve!_

Then the creature growled again, not with anger or hunger, but with determination.The ax came swooshing down suddenly, slicing cleanly through the tentacle that had Claire prisoner.The scaly green appendage wrapped around Claire's body immediately went slack, deprived of its lifeblood, and she felt to the floor artlessly, eyes riveted to the scene unfolding in front of her even as her blood went rushing back into her numb limbs.

The tentacle literally screeched in pain from some unseen mouth, green blood dripping from its severed, pulpy end and pooling on the floor.The thing was injured…but it wasn't dead.It still had one last defiance left in it, and as Claire watched in horror, it suddenly lashed forward like a striking snake, catching Steve right in the stomach with its bleeding end.There was the horrible sound of newborn flesh and tissue being torn as Steve roared in pain just before the impact of the tentacle slamming into his burgeoning body sent him flying into the opposite wall, the life-saving ax flying from his claws.He slumped to the floor as blood, thick and viscous, poured from a huge hole in his stomach.The tentacle, wounded and offended, retreated back into the wall with a thin screech.

And Claire was left alone with a dying Steve.

Pulling in a gasping, painful breath, she managed to lurch to her feet."Oh…Steve," she whispered tearfully, mesmerized by the visage that was slumped against the wall.Beaten, the monster forsook its host body, leaving Steve to die alone.She watched with a heavy heart as Steve's monster form began to fall away from him.Pale, creamy skin replaced green scales.Toe and fingernails emerged from curved claws.He lost almost three feet in height and hundreds of pounds of body mass all in three seconds.His warped demon's face was exchanged for his own pale, beautiful one, with its delicate features and soft green eyes.

The only thing that didn't change was the huge hole in his stomach.It stood there glaring at her from Steve's naked belly, taunting her with the death its legacy would surely bring.Claire's throat immediately constricted under the wound's teasing, and she stumbled forward drunkenly, falling to her knees in front of one of Steve's bare, outstretched legs.Though her arms still ached from being squeezed by the tentacle, she reached out numbly and touched the corner of the gaping hole in Steve's stomach with one trembling hand, as if that one touch could by some miracle cause the wound to seal up.

But Claire was only human, and humans are not creatures capable of healing, only destroying.

Steve suddenly reached down and gripped Claire's curious hand in one of his own, guiding it up to his face.Surprised, the young woman raised her tear-filled eyes to the now human face of her friend, and felt a moment of disbelief when she saw a small smile playing on his lips, barely visible in the darkness.That smile was the one spark of life in his whole figure, aside from his eyes, which still sparkled despite the fact that his life was fading fast. 

"They're…warm," Steve said softly, rubbing his cheek weakly against her gloved hand.That smile was still on his face.

_ _

_His skin is so cold…_

"Steve," Claire whispered, her wavering voice sounding too loud in the silence."You've got to hang in there, okay?"

_ _

_God…don't let him die!Please!_

"My…my brother has come to save us!" Claire rushed on."We're getting out of here!"

Steve closed his eyes briefly, and Claire thought the skin on his eyelids looked too pale, too thin.She felt her heart breaking, her will shattering.

_ _

_No, God, no…he's going to die…_

But then his eyes flickered open again, and he spoke."Your brother kept his promise," he whispered, voice straining as he fought Death."I'm sorry I cannot…"

A bout of confusion broke through Claire's depression."Wh-What are you saying?" she asked tearfully, forcing herself to speak past the lump in her throat.

Steve somehow found the strength to squeeze her hand, that smile never leaving his lips.Looking her right in the face with those unforgettable green eyes of his, he said with heartbreaking sincerity, "I'm glad that I met you.I…I love you, Claire…" 

Then terrible Death brought its scythe down, and Steve's hand fell away from hers as his head sagged forward, red hair falling out from behind his ears to hide his face, giving the effect of a curtain closing.He spoke no more.He breathed no more.

Tears immediately started falling from Claire's eyes as she realized that now she was truly alone in the room.Steve was dead.Her heart shattered, and she felt a scream of anguish building in her throat.

Then she was falling, and there was nothing but darkness as her companion.Steve – her Steve – with his porcelain skin, pale green eyes, and accepting smile, was gone, gone forever.Tears streamed down her face as her hands reached out to touch him, just one more time.Maybe she could whisper in his ear, tell him all the things she felt for him, and maybe, by some divine miracle, he would hear her.Just maybe…

But no such luck.There was nothing but darkness to hold, nothing but darkness to touch.She was alone.

Alone…with her tears and her pain.

"Steve!" she cried, knowing that no one could hear her and not really caring.Her agony demanded a voice of release, and Claire had no choice but to give it one."Chris!Anyone!" she called again, voice raw with anguish."Can somebody hear me?Please, someone, I'm scared!Please…help…anyone…"

"Claire!" a voice suddenly cried.

A gasp erupted from her throat as the sound of another person calling her name echoed throughout the abyss.The darkness tried to swallow it but couldn't.The voice seemed to resound forever, jumping out of the darkness' clutches to whisper softly against her ears again and again, beckoning to her…

"Claire!" it cried again.

_ _

_Who is it? Claire wondered numbly, nonexistent eyes searching the darkness.For a moment, she thought she saw a flash of red hair out of the corner of her vision, but when she whirled, the image was gone._

"Steve…" she whispered, starting to chase after the fleeting memory of the boy whose death had shattered her soul.There was nowhere else to go.She needed to be with Steve…

But then the voice came again, pulling her back.

"Claire!Wake up!"

_ _

_Huh?Leon?_

"Leon!" she cried, tears of joy streaming down her face as her arms shot blindly into the darkness, reaching to grab something, anything.She needed something solid to cling to, yet, she wasn't really expecting to find anything.

That's why when she felt her numb fingers bite into warm flesh, she latched on with the fury of a drowning person onto a rescuer.She felt the warmth of another body somewhere close by, and though she couldn't see anything yet, the smell of peppermint suddenly drifted to her nose like a welcome breath of spring after a harsh winter.There was something tangled around her legs, sufficiently immobilizing her, and she was annoyed to find an almost painful pressure on her upper arms that tightened even as she continued to struggle.

"Claire!" the still-invisible Leon cried…right in her ear.

"Leon!" she screamed, jerking her head from side to side."Where are you?!Save Steve!"

"Claire!Wake up!You're dreaming!Open your eyes!"

"What?" she gasped, chest heaving for breath as her struggling slowly died off into nothing.She tried to force herself to breath normally as the details of her night-darkened hotel room slowly came into focus.The thing intertwined with her legs was none other than her own sheets and blankets, and the annoying pressure on her arms proved to be Leon's hands, which were clutching her in death grip.

As her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, the worried – almost terrified – features of Leon's face swam into view.His reddish-brown hair was in wild disarray, strands sticking up left and right and flopping into his pale face.Moonlight danced in his worried eyes, making the azure depths appear almost luminescent in the darkness of her room.He was practically lying on top of her, apparently using his weight to hold her down when she had been struggling.One of his legs was tangled with hers, and his bare arms were wrapped around her in a grasp as tight as the one she had on his elbows.

"Claire," he suddenly whispered, wetting his lips nervously as he stared down into her face."You were having a nightmare.Are you alright?"

For a moment, Claire just lay there gazing up at him, at his eyes, at his skin.Her body savored the comforting warmth of him being so close to her.Her heart, however, felt like lead in her chest, and she was suffering from an icy internal cold that froze her soul and heart until each beat was painful, making her wonder why she went on living.Such pain, such agony…so why was it worth the fight?

Claire suddenly saw Misery rising up from the shadows of the room, spreading its evil wings until they almost reached the ceiling.Her heart stopped in her chest as she felt it looming over her, its presence hungry and its unseen eyes gleaming.There would be no mercy this time.Misery was out for blood.

Claire panicked."Leon!" she suddenly yelped, flinging her arms around his neck and burying her face in his chest.Her heart was hammering out of control.

His arms fastened around her immediately, rubbing her back gently."Claire!" he cried, apparently startled at the desperation she was displaying."What's wrong, Claire?!"

Tears flowed out of her eyes as she held Leon tighter.She nearly screamed when she felt the brush of Misery's wings against her back."Help me, Leon, please!"

"What is it, Claire?!"Leon sounded as terrified as she did, but the arms that held her were strong and powerful.The warmth from his body soothed her as her tears stained his sleeveless shirt.She was wrapped in the smell of peppermint. 

"He's dead, Leon," she suddenly whispered, feeling as if she couldn't breathe.She felt Misery hovering close by.

For a second, silence fell in the room except for her ragged, tortured breathing.Then, she felt Leon's lips by her ear."I know," he said softly.

"It's all my fault!" she gasped as painful memories flooded her mind.Blood pounded in her ears, almost drowning out all other sounds.She bit back a shriek when she felt the cold touch of Misery on her shoulder.She tried clutching Leon tighter, attempting to use his strength and warmth to fight the icy fingers, but the cold continued to spread.

"No, Claire!" Leon suddenly cried, taking hold of her shoulders and putting her away from him so he could gaze into her tearstained face."Listen to me!" he yelled, as Claire's eyes darted wildly around the room, searching for the hideous wraith, Misery.Where had it gone to?The cold was still spreading.

"LOOK AT ME!" Leon suddenly roared, shaking her slightly.

Blearily, Claire turned her leaking eyes to the figure that held her in his arms.Leon's eyes shone desperately in the darkness with a violent desperation that she had never seen before.Moonlight clung to his long eyelashes, and she suddenly found that she couldn't look away from the magical visage that lay before her.He was so beautiful.Claire wondered numbly if Leon knew just how beautiful he really was.

"Steve is dead," she said hollowly, her voice sounding very far away.

_ _

_Why am I so cold?_

"I know he is, Claire," Leon said firmly, pronouncing every word carefully, as if she were a young child who couldn't understand.

_ _

_So cold…_

"He died in my arms," Claire deadpanned, tears running silently down her face."He said he loved me, and then he died.I couldn't save him.It's my fault.He's gone forever, and he's never coming back."The cold suddenly became excruciating, and her eyes started to slip closed.

_ _

_Oh my god, she realized.__I'm dying!Misery – it's trying to kill me!_

"Claire!" Leon suddenly called again, his panicked voice pulling her back from the abyss."Wake up!Stay with me, Claire!Listen to me!"

_ _

_Wow, he's really beautiful.Like an angel…Leon…_

His voice suddenly became low and feverish, the heartfelt look in his sapphire eyes telling her more than his words did."It is not your fault, Claire," he insisted."I know Steve was your friend, and that you cared for him a lot, but there is absolutely nothing you can do about it now!Living like this, wallowing in grief, torturing yourself to death – what kind of life is this?!Would Steve want this for you?"

Claire suddenly smiled sleepily, her eyes half closed.She felt so warm now."I'll miss ya, Leon," she said softly."Thanks for being my friend."

His eyes widened in shock, apparently realizing exactly what was happening."No Claire!" he cried, shaking her again."Don't go!It's not worth it!Please!"

She smiled again, smiled at Leon, smiled at the darkness that was staining the corners of her eyes permanently, smiled at the cold that was making her heart skip in her chest."I'm glad that I met you, Leon," she whispered, her voice dying off into silence as she fought to keep her eyes open.

_ _

_I love you._

She felt his hand strike her on the face, but the pain was too far away to bring her back.The dark was rising.Her heart couldn't take much more of this.Shadows clouded her mind, making her feel drowsy and peaceful, but somewhere within the whirling maelstrom of confusing emotions that were desperately trying to unravel themselves in these final moments, she heard Misery laughing in triumph.It was then that Claire knew that she had been broken, shattered.And yes, she realized that Claire Redfield, the headstrong go-getter who never let herself shed a tear about anything, had been defeated.She knew she was dying

And she excepted his fate, conceded to Misery's might…but who knew defeat was so bitter?It wasn't supposed to be this way.She wasn't supposed to die, not until Umbrella had been defeated.She promised Chris she would never leave his side again.She promised Sherry she would return and they would go out for ice cream and go shopping.She promised Steve that she would be strong.And she disappointed them all.

_ _

_Steve…wait for me…I'm coming…_

_ _

_…not yet, love.Not time…_

Claire's eyes slipped shut, and she fell into darkness.The cold was in her heart now, and its beats were slowing.Her breaths were just mere whispers of wind fluttering in and out of her lungs, insubstantial things unable to sustain her life.But somewhere in the darkest shadows of death, she thought she heard Leon's voice.

"No, Claire!Don't leave me!Please!Don't leave me alone…"

She felt something wet strike her face and roll down her cheek._Tears?Leon's tears…no, Leon, don't cry for me…_

"Ada died so that I could live," Leon's voice came again, whispered and soft."And Steve died so that you could live…so that you could _live, Claire!That has to mean something, doesn't it?" He sounded so lost and panicked."Yes, it has to!I know it does!Claire, can you hear me?!Don't leave me, please!I don't want to go on without you.I need you.I came back to you.I came here for you.Please don't leave now.Please?"_

_ _

_My heart…hurts.Pain.Pain is living.Leon…save me…_

"Claire…"

_ _

_Give me a reason to live…_

"Claire, don't go!Please!Claire…I love you."

_ _

_No!No!Misery, release me!I want to live!Give me back my strength.God, just this once…give me another chance.Please?_

Claire coughed suddenly, drawing in a painful breath that seemed to send daggers into her already ravaged heart.Bleeding is breathing.Pain is living.Smell and sound suddenly returned in full force.Life flared again in a heart and soul that had been laden with ache and self-torment for too long.

"Claire," a voice whispered, as softly as a ghost in the dark, but oh-so strong, indomitable.She drew on this strength, on the celestial light that emanated from this wingless angel that she couldn't see but knew was there.

"Leon," she murmured, her eyes fluttering open as the name rolled off her lips.She loved his name; she always had.

"Claire!" she heard him cry, voice thick with joy and pain all mixed into one."You're alive!"

_ _

_Yes, she realized with complete satisfaction.__I am._

She felt a small smile spread across her face as she watched Leon's features slowly emerge into clean, clear focus…everlasting, beautiful.His tears had left glittering, silver tracks on his flushed face, and his azure eyes were wide as he watched her awaken beneath him…reborn.

_ _

_Yes, reborn…and free at last._

* * * * * * * * * *

The sun had just begun to tentatively peek over the horizon when Claire's eyes flickered open.Essence of gold exploded across her vision, and she smiled even as she winced at the pain the over-eager sunlight caused her.As she waited for her eyes to recover, she relished the feel of Dawn's fingers of rose warming her face and burning the cold from her limbs.She felt warmer than she had in a long time.A long, long time.

Something shifted beside her, and she turned her head to the right, opening her eyes as she did so.Claire couldn't help the smile that spread across her face when her blue eyes fell upon the sleeping form of Leon S. Kennedy.The sun had struck his figure, too, turning his hair into a veil lit woven of liquid fire and chocolate brown as it lay against the pristine pillow.One of his arms was flung across her stomach protectively, his fingers lightly gripping her waist even in sleep.He shifted slightly, one leg brushing hers as his eyelids fluttered.

"No," Claire whispered gently, pressing her lips to his forehead."Go back to sleep.You need the rest."

Leon muttered something incoherent under his breath, still not waking, burying his face in the hollow of her neck, nuzzling the warmth of it.Claire fought back a laugh as his hair tickled her collarbone.Pressing a kiss onto the top of his head, she closed her eyes as she breathed in his scent deeply, loving the sheer pleasure of having him near her.

"Thank you, Leon," she whispered into his hair, suddenly feeling all choked up."You saved my life.I love you, Leon."

And there she lay for a while longer, her body warm against his with the sun dancing over both of their forms gracefully.It was with a sense of purpose and great reluctance that Claire slowly disentangled herself from the arms of the man she loved and lowered her feet to the floor.Kissing his cheek gently so as not to wake him, she pulled the covers around his sleeping form to keep him warm until she returned.He stirred, subconsciously feeling the absence of her presence, but did not awaken.She watched him with a small smile until he settled back down again, the soft sheets wrapping around his figure like the protective wings of an angel.Then she walked over to the window, bare feet making soft creaking sounds on the floor.

Claire put one of her hands against the sun-kissed glass, letting the golden heat melt the numbness the night had left in her fingers.Tears of gratitude shimmered in her eyes as the blue gems met an equally blue sky."Thank you, God," she whispered to the sky."I don't know if you're listening, or if you're even there.But…thank you.And Steve…goodbye, love.I'll never forget you.I'm going to live like you wanted me to.I won't stop fighting…ever.Everything is going to be okay in the end – I'll make certain of that.Don't worry, Steve…and tell the angels it'll be alright."

_Run and tell the angels that everything's alright_

_ _

**THE END**

1 January 2001

_Author's Note:So, how did you like it?Reading through it again, I suppose it's a pretty decent work of fiction, but still…grossness! Anyways, I just want to thank anyone who read this and sent in reviews or e-mails!^_^You guys are amazing!Thanks for sticking it out with me to the end!What else did I have to say…oh yeah!You remember that action/adventure sequel I was babbling about at the end of Requiem?Well, should I go through with it after all???I think it might be interesting…but tell me what you think, eh?^_^_

_ _

e-mail [catalina2717@go.com][1]

   [1]: mailto:catalina2717@go.com



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